


Drive By

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Misunderstanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-14
Updated: 2012-04-14
Packaged: 2017-11-03 15:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How can Steve cope when Danny leaves town after they have one night together?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ratherastory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratherastory/gifts).



> If this story looks familiar, it's because I posted it recently. But last night, when I went to post a new story, something bizarre happened to it, and when I went to delete the messed up new story, it deleted this one instead. 
> 
> So if you commented or gave me kudos, I've lost them, in case you wanted to do so again. If you didn't get to before, now's your chance! :) And if you bookmarked it, that's gone as well, so you might want to bookmark it again. Sorry for the inconvenience! (I cried when I realized I'd lost it last night, along with all the fabulous comments.) 
> 
> Big thanks to the AO3 staff, who did try hard to see if it was possible to get it back. They were very nice and helpful! :) 
> 
> Original notes:
> 
> This story ate my brain. Huge thanks to imaginarycircus for fabulous and very quick beta, and to several wonderful friends who cracked the whip to get me to write, write, write to get this done on time for the h50_exchange. So many thank yous owed to the mods for taking on the painful task of setting it up and keeping it moving, and lots of thanks to ratherastory for the prompts, and another thanks to Train for the song that triggered the idea.

_April 2013_

"Rough day ahead?"

Steve blinked at the woman behind the counter. "What?"

She held up his large coffee. "You usually only get a medium--I figure you must be expecting a rough day. Or maybe you had a rough night?" she added with a wink.

"Oh. A little of both." He took the coffee, trying a smile in her direction. "Thanks."

"I thought you weren't that big on so much caffeine," said a voice behind Steve that made him freeze. He'd been hearing that voice in his dreams for six months, but not in the real world.

He turned around, studying Danny carefully. "What are you doing here, Danny?"

"Looking for you. I wanted to talk, and I thought this might be easier than HQ."

"You're about six months too late," Steve said in clipped words that didn't come close to what he wanted to say, but he was in public, and he'd done enough damage to 5-0's reputation lately as it was.

"Steve, if you'd just give me a minute--"

"Sorry. Not interested." He pushed past Danny and out the door, getting into his truck and slamming the door. He punched the steering wheel, then hissed as coffee spilled over his hand. "Fuck!"

He looked over his shoulder and saw Danny coming out of the coffee shop. Steve put the coffee cup in a holder, turned the key, and peeled out of his parking spot before Danny could reach the truck. He felt wetness on his leg and looked down to see his coffee in the floorboard, the lid missing, and liquid everywhere.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

As Mondays went, it was the worst one he'd had in about six months.

***

_October 2012_

"Dammit, Spot!"

Steve nearly tripped over his own feet to avoid the latest pile of vomit on the floor. The dog was sitting a few feet away, staring at him with mournful eyes, and Steve sighed. "Sorry, buddy," he said, ducking back into the kitchen to get paper towels. "I guess I left some paper in reach?"

The dog's ears perked up, and Steve heard a knock on the door a second later. He threw the mess in the trash and crossed the living room to open the door and find Danny standing on the other side. "Hey," Steve said, the last of his annoyance with the dog fading at the sight of Danny, though he was puzzled by the knocking. "This is a switch, you knocking on the door. What's up?"

"Can I, uh..." Danny scratched the back of his neck, a sure sign he was nervous, and Steve felt some of the tension seeping back into his shoulders. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." He pulled the door open, letting Danny inside before closing it again. "Something wrong?"

Spot had come running to sit at Danny's feet, pawing at his leg for attention, and Danny bent down to scratch the dog's ears. "Hey, pal. How ya doin?"

"He's developed a bad habit," Steve said. "He'll eat any paper or cardboard he can get his teeth on."

Danny frowned up at Steve. "That can't be good for his stomach."

"He seems to be throwing it all up before he has to worry about digesting it," Steve said, eyes narrowing just a little bit at Spot, who blinked at him with the puppy eyes that made him feel guilty all over again.

"At least you don't have carpet?" Danny said.

"Even if I had, I wouldn't by now," Steve said, but there was no annoyance in his tone. "So to what do I owe this visit? Or did you just come by for some Spot time?"

Danny stood with one final pat to the dog's head. "No, though I really appreciate you looking after him while I look for a place. Especially given his new eating habits, which I now suspect had something to do with Rachel insisting I take him for a while."

"I think his new eating habits have something to do with a complex over being named 'Spot,'" Steve teased.

"For the last time," Danny said, his tone a pale comparison of his normal irritation, "do you want to argue with the logic of a 9-year-old naming a dog?"

Steve shook his head, because whatever Grace wanted, Grace got, as far as he and Danny were both concerned. "No. So to what do I owe the honor of your actually knocking on my door?"

"Look, Steve...I, uh...can we talk?"

The tension was seeping back in again. "Sure. Talk."

Danny looked around. "Maybe outside? With alcohol?" He nodded. "Definitely. A lot of alcohol."

Steve frowned, leaning in a little and sniffing. "You smell like you've had a bit already. Did you drive over here?"

"Uh...yeah...but that was before I drank."

 _Before he drank?_ Steve thought, and realized he hadn't heard the Camaro pull up, which meant it must've been outside since before he'd come back in from his swim...half an hour ago. "You've been sitting out front," he said slowly, "drinking." At Danny's nod, the tension in Steve's shoulders got so tight he had to roll them a little to deal with it. "Why?"

"Outside? With alcohol?"

"Okay."

Danny went through to the back door without stopping, and Steve opened the refrigerator and reached for Longboards before remembering that he'd smelled whiskey. Might as well keep it up, he decided, pulling an almost full bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and grabbing two cups before going out back.

Danny was standing near the ocean, looking out at the waves, his hands in his pockets, his back to Steve. He was swaying a little unsteadily. "Just how much did you have to drink?" Steve asked as he put the cups on the table and poured whiskey into them.

"Almost enough." Danny took the cup Steve held out and downed it in one go before holding it out again. When Steve made no move to fill it, Danny went around him and grabbed the bottle and poured more himself.

"Danny." Steve's voice was low, and he waited until Danny turned his head, almost meeting Steve's eyes. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk."

"You said that already."

"Christ, I know, I just..." Danny took another drink, running his hand through his hair, the wind helping to make it stick out all over the place. "I've been trying to talk to you about this for weeks, and I haven't been able to, and I know, all right? I know that it makes me a fucking coward, but I couldn't think of how to bring it up without--"

He broke off for another drink, and Steve took a couple of steps closer. "Hey," he said softly. "Hey. Look at me."

Danny looked up, and Steve could tell in the faint moonlight that his eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept much. "I don't think it's a good idea if I look at you."

"Why?"

"Because I'll never get the words out. Or I'll change my mind, and that's not...I can't."

Steve swallowed, looking out at the ocean while he processed this. Danny had been spending more time there the last few weeks, and that, combined with the lingering touches--more of them than usual--and that look that he kept catching when Danny thought he wasn't looking, had made Steve wonder. Now he was pretty sure he had the right idea.

A least he hoped he had the right idea, or what he was about to do could go very, very badly.

"Let me see if I can help," Steve said, taking a few more steps until his body was almost brushing against Danny's. "Does it have anything to do with this?"

He rested his hands on Danny's hips and leaned in, pressing his lips to Danny's. Danny froze, and for one eternal second, Steve thought he'd got it wrong. And then Danny moved, pressing against Steve, his arms tightening around Steve's back, his mouth opening up under Steve's as if he wanted to swallow him whole.  
  


"Thank God," Steve muttered against Danny's lips, just long enough to let Danny catch a breath before diving back in for more. His hands were roaming down Danny's ass and back up to feel the tight muscles there, the heat of Danny's skin penetrating Steve's hands, even through his shirt. "Upstairs," Steve said, breaking away and grabbing Danny's hand, all but dragging him through the house.

"Steve, I--"

He stopped at the base of the stairs and turned, devouring Danny's mouth while unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it out of Danny's waistband so he could yank it off Danny's arms and toss it aside. Danny had his hands under Steve's t-shirt, feeling his way up Steve's sides as he moved the shirt up further, and Steve broke the kiss long enough to yank the shirt over his head and throw it away as well.

He pulled on Danny again, leading him up the stairs and into the bedroom. He tipped Danny onto the bed and dropped down onto it himself, halfway on top of Danny. "Seriously, Steve, we--"

His lips captured Danny's once more. If Danny wanted to talk about what this meant for their partnership or whatever, they could talk later.

"Steven--"

"Danny," Steve said, hands gripping the sides of Danny's face as he lifted his head just enough to look down at Danny, giving him a chance to say no, hoping like hell he didn't take it, "sex now, talk later, yeah?"

"I--" Steve rubbed his thigh along Danny's cock, and Danny's next word turned into a groan. "Sex now," Danny said, reaching for Steve's fly, "talk later."

Steve's grin pressed against Danny's neck as he tasted that muscle that had always driven him crazy. His teeth sunk into it while Danny's hand wrapped around his cock. A few slides of Danny's hand later, and Steve was scrambling up to get his clothing off.

When he was naked, he looked down at Danny, who was still mostly wearing his clothes--at least where Steve hadn't managed to expose skin--and watching Steve with the strangest expression. "What?" Steve asked.

"Nothing," Danny said quietly, tugging on Steve's hand, trying to pull him back down onto the bed.

"Hang on." Steve pulled Danny's clothes the rest of the way off as fast as he could before draping himself over Danny's body and claiming his mouth once more. His hips moved instinctively, and he slid a little further over, gasping into Danny's mouth when he felt their cocks sliding against each other.

He'd wanted this for so long, suddenly having it was almost like a dream. But there was no way a dream could feel this damn good, no way his brain could possibly have dreamt up how hot Danny's skin was against his, or those sounds Danny was making, or the way Danny's fingers were clutching at Steve's back.

So much better than any dream could be, and Steve wanted it to last, but he couldn't make himself slow down, his hips moving faster, feeling Danny's speed up in response. "God, Danny," Steve mumbled, his lips pressed against Danny's neck, "you feel so good."

"You feel--oh my God, you have no idea how good you feel," Danny muttered back, his fingers digging into Steve's back.

Â There were other things Steve wanted to say, but he seemed to have lost the ability to speak, and then he was coming, felt Danny coming with him, and he thought for a moment he might have even lost the ability to breathe, gulping in breaths, his hips still moving slowly against Danny's body.

Talk, he thought, his mind hazy. They were supposed to talk. Steve tried to open his eyes, but they refused to budge, so he buried his face deeper against Danny's neck. They could talk in the morning. Right now he just wanted to lay here and enjoy finally getting this after waiting for so long.

He woke to the sensation of bright light on the other side of his eyelids, and a tongue on his bicep. "I always knew you secretly had a thing for my tattoos," Steve said, stretching a little.

The whimper he heard from the bed next to him stopped him cold, and he opened his eyes to find Spot in bed next to him. "Okay...not who I'd expected to be licking me this morning," Steve said, looking around. There was no sign of Danny or his clothes, and after listening for a moment, Steve heard no sound in the house.

Danny must've gone home to change before work. Maybe he figured they didn't really need to talk, not after the topic had been pretty clear from their actions. Steve tossed the covers back and rolled out of bed, smiling. He'd see Danny soon enough--maybe he could corner him in his office and do some more 'talking.'

He'd taken three steps when he felt something cold and squishy under his foot, and he shuddered, already knowing what he was going to find. "Spot," Steve said on a sigh, looking down to see the dog had, indeed, thrown up in the floor, soggy bits of whatever paper he'd managed to chew up this time sprinkling the mess.

Steve shook his head. Not even this was going to break his good mood, he thought as he cleaned it up. Not today.

He had Danny--nothing in the world could bring him down now.

***

_April 2013_

Steve turned off Alakea onto King as his phone rang. He saw Chin's picture on the screen and punched the talk button. "What's up?"

"Steve...Danny's in town. Thought you should know."

"Yeah, thanks, you're about five minutes too late on that one."

There was a moment of silence before Chin asked, "Are you...is everything okay?"  
  
"There was no bloodshed," Steve said. "Not even raised voices. So stop worrying. I'll be there in a minute."

He hung up and pulled into the lot beside HQ, parking the truck and turning it off. He glanced at the mess in his floorboard before picking up the empty cup and the lid and leaving the rest. The sun would get rid of most of it before he'd have a chance anyway, and he had things to do.

 _Like change into dry pants_ , he thought, pulling the wet fabric away from his leg as he locked the truck and walked away.

***

_October 2012_

Steve walked into HQ whistling, which got him a few strange looks on the stairs, but he didn't care. Nothing could bring down his mood--it'd probably take ten minutes to wipe the smile off his face when he saw Danny.

The offices were quiet when Steve got there, no sign of his team, but a cop who Steve recognized was sitting in the bullpen. He stood quickly when Steve walked in. "Commander McGarrett," he said.

"Officer Kelekolio, right?" Steve reached out to shake his hand. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"I've been with the Kauai Police," he said. "Made detective, and then a slot opened up here, so I took it a month ago."

"It's nice to see you. What brings you to 5-0?"

Kelekolio frowned. "I got to work this morning and was told you were a man down and I should report here to help."

"A man down?" Steve was already pulling out his phone to check on his team. "What man?"  
  


"Detective Williams."

Steve froze, phone halfway to his ear. "Danny? He's fine. I just saw him last night."

Kelekolio shrugged. "That's what I was told. Maybe there was a mistake?"  
  
"There's definitely a mistake," Steve said, pocketing his cell phone. "I'm going to go make a call. We'll straighten this out."

He spun around and marched off to his office.

***

April 2013

Steve managed to get into his office and change into a spare pair of cargo pants, before his cell phone started ringing on his desk, a Bon Jovi song he'd stealthily avoided for six months. He stabbed at the decline button with his finger three times before he actually hit it and the phone went silent.

Chin and Kono came into his office. "Where are we on the Ualaka'a Loop murders?" Steve asked. The phone started blaring Bon Jovi again.

"Tox report is due back this morning," Kono said slowly, watching as Steve smacked the decline button. "Which you know, because you told us last night before we left."

"I thought maybe it had come in," Steve said, fiddling with the phone to silence the ringer, managing it just in time before Danny's face popped up on the screen again. He hit decline and dropped the phone face down on the desk. "Is there some other break in the case? Or do we have a new one?"

Kono and Chin both shook their heads. "Steve," Chin started, but Steve waved him off before he could get any further.

"I'm fine." At their matching dubious looks, he held out his hands. "I'm fine," he said emphatically. "Go back to work."

The phone vibrated its way off the desk, and Steve looked at it, quelling the urge to stomp on it. The governor had been very clear about the number of phones Steve was allowed to replace in a year, and he wasn't wasting one of those on this.

Chin sighed, but he turned and left. Kono stayed for a long moment, though, staring Steve down, despite his most menacing glare. "It's a small island," she said, mildly. "You're going to have to talk to him at some point."

"I disagree. I might run into him, but I don't _have_ to talk to him." The phone started vibrating across the floor towards Steve, as if to mock his statement.

He had a feeling his slightly emo teenage tone was what made Kono scoff though. "Even if it wasn't Danny, who you know will find a way to make you listen, you'd still end up talking anyway."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," he said, trying for a more mature tone and not quite hitting it.

"Maybe _you_ don't know you as well as you think you do," she said, before she walked out.

***

_October 2012_

"Commander McGarrett for the governor," Steve said into his cell phone. While he waited, Steve looked across at Danny's office, blinds drawn, which was unusual. Now that he thought about it...they'd been drawn for a couple of days, which was unlike Danny.

The phone clicked, and the Governor said, "Commander. I trust Detective Kelekolio arrived?"

"Yes, sir. I'm just wondering why he's here."

The long silence that followed was less than encouraging. "I assumed Detective Williams would have told you," the governor said at last. "I received an email from him late yesterday. He asked for indefinite leave, or termination, if the leave was unacceptable."

"He...." Steve's mind blanked for a moment, unable to process what he'd heard. "I'm sorry, sir, he asked for what?"

"Leave to follow his daughter. He's not sure when he'll be back--if he makes it back."

Leave. Indefinite. And " _if_ he makes it back." The words flew through Steve's brain, but it still refused to make sense of it. He'd just seen Danny last night. He had seen _all_ of Danny, and they'd...and all the time....

"Commander?"

"Sorry, sir. I just...he didn't say anything."

"I got the feeling from his email that it was very last minute. I'm inclined to make it indefinite leave for the moment, unless you feel otherwise?"

He couldn't even think about it right now. "No, that's fine."

"Kelekolio has received excellent reviews, and since he's new, we weren't pulling him off any cases by reassigning him so quickly. However, if you decide you need someone else, we can discuss it."

"Kelekolio's fine," Steve said, switching into automatic mode, obeying his superiors and not questioning their decisions. "If he doesn't work out, I'll report back."

"Very well. Is there anything else?"  
  
Steve swallowed. "No sir. Thank you."

He hung up, only realizing how tight he'd been holding the phone when he put it in his pocket and felt the strain in his hand ease. He was still staring at the closed blinds in Danny's office, so very wrong that he strode out of his office and to Danny's opening the door, intending to open them.

He stopped just inside, looking around. The walls were bare, the desk was neat and clean and empty, all traces of Danny completely missing. He closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, it was still the same.

Everything about Danny was completely gone.

He swallowed again, tightened his jaw, backed out of the room and closed the door.

***

_April 2013_

The phone continued to vibrate on Steve's desk. He couldn't exactly turn off all notifications--he did have a job. That was assuming anyone could get through with Danny calling every three minutes. And he knew it was every three minutes because every time the phone buzzed, he had to look at the screen, just to make sure it was still Danny and not work related, and he could see the time on the top of the screen.

He also saw Danny's picture every single time, which wasn't helping.

He put up with it for two hours before he couldn't take it any longer. "Chin!" he yelled, and a moment later, Chin appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised. "Make the phone stop," Steve said, holding it up.

"Stop what?"  
  
As if on cue, it started buzzing, Danny's face popping up once more. "That," Steve said, holding it out. "Make it stop."

"Are you sure you want me to do that?" Chin asked, and if his tone was slightly disapproving, Steve decided not to call him on it.

"I can't get any work done, and he won't stop calling. I know you can do something on the computer to make it stop. So do it."

"I've heard that picking up the phone and asking nicely sometimes helps."  
  
"Chin."

They stared at each other for a long moment, then Chin took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, "I'll stop it for the rest of the day."

"Fine." He'd find a way to stop it more permanently later. "Thanks."

"Just don't blame me if he shows up when he can't call anymore."  
  


Steve shook his head. "I can't even--" he waved his hand as the phone started buzzing again. "Just go make it stop."

"Okay. You asked for it."

He walked out, and Steve put the phone down, trying to ignore the buzzing, and focus on the tox screen report on his computer. He had just managed to read the first sentence when he realized the incessant buzzing had actually stopped.

"Finally," he muttered, settling in to actually read the full report.

By the time he got to the third paragraph, he realized the lack of buzzing was driving him crazy. He put his head down on the desk and banged it lightly a few times before letting it rest there.

***

_October 2012_

Steve had been trying Danny's cell for over an hour, but it went directly to voicemail every time, so he broke down and searched the flights for the day. He found it quick enough, there in black and white, Daniel Williams, British Airways flight 5230. He'd flown out at 7:10 that morning, while Steve was still sleeping, completely unaware that Danny had even left the bed.

Steve looked at the layover and realized that Danny would be in LA just before 1 that afternoon in Hawaii. He'd wait and call then, and he'd have two hours to catch him. If he missed that, Danny would be in London at 1 in the morning by Hawaii time.

He would track him down. Because he needed for this to make sense, and only Danny could help with that.

***

_April 2013_

When the loud knocking started, Steve looked at his watch, surprised it had taken until nearly 7. He knew that knock, and knew that Danny wouldn't leave his doorstep any more than he would stop calling until Steve made him.

"Spot!" Steve called to quiet the dog, who'd started barking as soon as the knocking had begun.

He put his beer down with more care than it probably warranted and turned off the TV before he pushed off the couch and crossed the room to the sound of more knocking, keeping Spot behind the door before he opened it. Danny actually looked surprised as the door opened, his hand suspended in midair.

"That was a lot quicker than I expected," Danny said, dropping his hand.

"I listened to my phone vibrate all morning," Steve said, blocking the door with his body in case Danny got any ideas. "I thought I might like to get some sleep tonight, and that didn't seem likely if you were going to stand here knocking all night long."  
  


"You spam blocked my phone, Steven," Danny said. "What was I supposed to do?"  
  
Steve smirked, folding his arms over his chest and leaning on the doorjamb, one foot still hooked around the door. "You were supposed to get the hint."  
  
"Very nice. You turned into a twelve-year-old while I was gone."

Steve took a quick, deep breath and let it out, his hands balling into fists under his arms. "I did a lot of things while you were gone," he said, voice low and careful. "Maybe if you hadn't left, you wouldn't have missed them."

"If you'd let me explain--"

"No. I don't need an explanation." Which was a lie, but Steve wasn't giving him the satisfaction of thinking it mattered that much. "You had to go with Grace. I understand."  
  


"That's kind of not what I wanted to explain."  
  
Steve pushed off the doorjamb and stepped back, pushing the door halfway closed. "I really don't want to talk about it Danny. Go home."  
  


"Steve--"  
  
"Go home, Danny." Steve closed the door and locked it before calling to Spot, taking him out the back for a run on the beach, taking care to lock the back door as well.

Danny could knock until his fingers bled. Steve wasn't sticking around to hear it.

*** __

_October 2012_

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Kelekolio flinched as Steve yelled, his face less than an inch away. "I was calling for back up," he said, his voice a little shaky.

"While our only lead gets away? Are you unable to tackle one man and arrest him, Detective?"

"It's procedure to--"

"What, let a lead run away while you're on the phone?" Steve yelled.

He felt a hand on his arm. "Steve," Chin said, pulling lightly, but pulling nonetheless. "He's waking up. We need a location on the girl."

Steve glared at Kelekolio for another few seconds before letting Chin pull him away. The forger they'd gotten a tip about was on the ground nearby, hands zip tied behind him, half his cheek sporting a burgeoning bruise that bore a more than passing resemblance to the sole of Steve's boot. "Okay, pal," Steve said, putting that boot on the guy's stomach and pushing him onto his back, heedless of his bound wrists. "Where is she?"  
  
"Where is who?"

"Wrong answer." Steve leaned more weight on the guy's stomach, watching him wince. "Where's Jane Simmons?"

"I don't know any Jane--ow!"

Steve shifted his weight so his boot was pressing into the guy's lower abdomen. "I can keep going lower," Steve growled. "Though your cellmate might have some use for what I'm planning to damage if you don't talk."  
  


"They have her at the Hawaii Medical Center building in Liliha, okay? Fuck, somebody get him off me!"

Steve leaned a little harder, but Chin pulled on him again, and he backed off, not meeting Chin's eyes. "Kelekolio, take him to HPD for processing." He hadn't used the words 'book him' since Danny left, and he wasn't going to. "Anybody who's _not_ going to let someone get away while they make a phone call, come with me," Steve added, heading for his truck, knowing Chin and Kono would be right behind him.

***

_April 2013_

Steve was signing paperwork when he heard his office door swing open the next morning. He was afraid to look, but when he glanced up, it was just Kono, hovering in the doorway. "Is this a bad time?" she asked.

Which was so unlike her that he put down the file and the pen and sat back. "No. What's wrong?"

"Look," she said, crossing the room to take one of the chairs in front of Steve's desk. "Danny came to see me last night. I'm the last person who wants to get in the middle of any of this--"

"Then don't." Steve kicked back from the desk a little as he slumped into his chair, gripping the arms. "I can't believe he sent you to plead his case."

"He didn't!" Kono leaned forward, and Steve could see concern, not calculation, in her eyes. "I'm not here because he asked me to talk to you. I'm not here to make excuses. I know he was an idiot--and so does he, by the way, if that helps."

Steve tapped his foot against the leg of his desk. "So then why are you here?"

"Danny didn't ask me to come talk to you--actually, he asked me _not_ to mention it to you. He just wanted someone to talk to who knew both of you, and I think he was a little afraid to go to Chin, frankly." She gave Steve a small smile. "I gather he had one talk with Chin, and it didn't go too well."

Which made sense--Chin probably knew better than anyone the extent to which Danny's disappearing act had truly affected Steve. And Chin was nothing if not loyal. "So if Danny asked you not to talk to me, what are you doing?"

"I'm not here for Danny," Kono said. "I'm here for you."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine."

"You're not, and you haven't been for six months." She leaned back in the chair, eyeing him as he'd seen her do so many suspects in interrogation. "Or do you think I'm blind and stupid?"

Steve shifted under that look, understanding a lot more about why perps talked when Kono was asking questions. "I don't think you're either," he said, after a moment. "But I also don't think it's any of your business."

"Not my business? We're _ohana_ , brah," she said simply. "You grew up here--you know what that means in this place. _Everything_ is your family's business." She leaned forward again, elbows resting on her knees. "And that goes double for things that affect our jobs and our safety, too."

He couldn't argue with that last bit, even if part of him wanted to argue with the first. Though even that argument was more out of defensiveness--he knew what an honor it was to be included in extended family in Hawaii, especially if you were seen as _haole_ no matter how long you'd lived here. "Fair enough," Steve said. "Say what you came to say."

"Don't think about Danny's actions for a minute," Kono said. "Just think about the last six months. Think about how they've been." She raised her eyebrows at him. "Is that really what you want the rest of your life to be like?"

"They haven't been that bad," Steve said quickly.

She ducked her head, eyebrows shooting up higher, an obvious 'do you really think I'm going to buy that' look on her face that he also recognized from interrogation. "Steve."

"Okay, fine, they sucked. But I'm getting better." That look got impossibly stronger. "Okay, I _was_ getting better until Danny showed up again."

"Two things," she said, pushing against her knees to stand up. "One, getting better is _not_ the same thing as great. Or even good. And two, Danny's not going anywhere, not while Grace is here. And from what I understand, they don't plan to leave again anytime soon. So...."

Steve sighed. "Point taken." He wasn't sure what he'd do with the point yet, but it was well taken.

"Good."

She turned to leave, but when she put her hand on the door, Steve called out her name, and she looked over her shoulder expectantly. "Thanks," he said, because she had come there out of concern, and because he was starting to realize maybe he wasn't as good at this whole interpersonal communications thing as he should be.

From her surprise at his simple thank you, he upgraded that 'maybe' to a 'definitely.' "You're welcome," she said, before she walked out of the office.

***

_October 2012_

Steve tossed back a shot, slamming the glass on the bar. They'd saved Jane Simmons and put her kidnappers behind bars, and he hadn't even had to kill anyone. He supposed that counted as a win, he thought, as he caught the bartender's eye and nodded at his glass.

"Are you sure you want another, Steve?"

"Come on, Kekipi. You know me."

"I do. Since we were kids. Which is why I'm asking."

"You know if _I'm_ asking, I need it."

Kekipi sighed and filled the shot glass, leaving the bottle behind for Steve and walking off. Steve stared at the glass for a moment before downing it.

He spun his phone on the bar, daring himself to hold out a little longer. He couldn't, though, and he picked it up and dialed. It went straight to voicemail, of course, but he knew that was going to happen. He listened to Danny's voice on the short message until the beep, then hung up. He'd stopped leaving messages a week ago--it was clear Danny either didn't check it or didn't care.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know which.

Three drinks and two calls later, someone slid onto the barstool next to him. Steve turned his most menacing glare on the interloper, wanting to be alone, mouth open to say something rude, when he realized it was Chin.

Steve blinked at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought you might need a ride home."

"Kekipi called you."

Chin nodded, the movement making Steve a little nauseous. "He thought maybe I could help you home."

"I'm fine here."

"Really?" Chin raised an eyebrow. "Get up and walk a straight line."

Steve heaved a great sigh that almost knocked him off his barstool. "Maybe I shouldn't drive," he muttered.

"That's the smartest thing you've said all day," Chin said. "Come on."

Even drunk he knew that tone, and he knew better to argue with Chin when he used it. Steve pulled his wallet out of his pocket and took some bills out, putting them on the bar. He tried to stuff his wallet into his back pocket, but nearly fell off the barstool again, so settled for putting it one of the side pockets.

He slid unsteadily off the stool, catching himself on the bar before following Chin outside to the Traverse. The neon lights on the bar seemed brighter and sharper than normal, even bouncing off the car window, and Steve frowned as he stared at the door of the car, trying to remember how to get in.

The door opened, and Steve stumbled back a little, staring at it, wondering how it knew he'd wanted it to open, then he saw Chin leaning across the seat from the driver's side. "Get in the car, Steve."

Steve managed to half climb, half fall into the seat, and get the door closed. He fumbled with the seat belt for a minute as Chin started the car and pulled out onto the street, but gave up when the latch refused to cooperate.

The silence from the driver's seat was oppressive. Steve leaned his forehead on his window and watched the streetlights go dizzyingly past. "It's not that he left," Steve said after a few minutes. "I always knew he would. It's just...he didn't even say goodbye."

"Maybe he didn't know how," Chin said quietly.

Steve thought about that, about Danny's visit that last night, and everything that had happened. Maybe that was the only way Danny knew how to say goodbye.

And if it made Steve sick to his stomach to think that sex was just a goodbye, and didn't mean anything else, well, he at least had the luxury of blaming it on the alcohol this time.

***

_April 2013_

Steve tapped on his cell phone screen, making a horrible attempt at a Sudoku game while he waited for the Governor to be available. He'd received a summons the night before to be there at 8:30 am sharp, but, of course, this being the Governor, it was going on 9 and he was still waiting.

He'd arrived at 8:15 and spent a full half hour going over his recent actions and finding nothing objectionable enough that the Governor would have dragged him to in to rake him over the coals about. He'd only been back for a short time; maybe the Governor just wanted to see how he was doing.

He'd think maybe he was getting an apology for tying him back to the task force, but he was a realist. Anyway, he had been starting to accept that it wasn't such a bad thing, until two days ago.

"Commander McGarrett? The Governor is ready for you."

Finally. He stood and hurried over to the door, moving to stand in front of the Governor's desk, hands locked behind his back, waiting.

"Commander. I trust you're settling back in?"

Steve nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm glad to hear it." The Governor was watching him far more closely than a routine 'how's it going' really warranted. "I wanted to let you know I'm reassigning Kelekolio back to HPD."

Schooling his features not to show any reaction--not hard, since he'd been working at shutting himself down for a couple of days--Steve nodded. "Are we getting someone else?" he asked, mentally going through the list of HPD detectives to see if he could figure out who would be coming on board.

"Detective Williams will be rejoining you."

And that was the last thing he had expected, which, in retrospect, was remarkably shortsighted of him. Trust Danny to get himself inserted back on the team when Steve wouldn't talk to him. He was remarkably good at doing anything and everything Steve didn't want him to do. "Sir...I'm not sure that's the best thing for the team."

"I think you're wrong, Commander." The Governor held up a hand before Steve could do more than open his mouth and take a breath. "I don't know what happened, nor do I want to know. But Detective Williams' leave of absence was when the task force started to have problems. So I'm sending him back, and I expect the problems to be fixed. Are we clear?"

Steve gave him a tight nod, gripping his hands together behind his back so tightly the tension traveled up his body until his jaw ached. "Yes. Sir."

"Good. That will be all. Thank you."

Steve executed a crisp about face and marched out of the office without looking back.

***

_November 2012_

"Commander, I would say that, despite explaining to you the first day that there would be consequences, I have been somewhat lenient and understanding, under the circumstances. Wouldn't you agree?"

Steve stood still as a rock, his arms clasped behind his back, eyes straight ahead. "Yes, sir," he bit off. Because, sure, Denning had not been quite as...fluid with the laws as Jameson, but then he also wasn't in bed with Wo Fat. At least as far as they knew. He had, however, given Steve more rope than he'd expected after their first conversation at Kamekona's.

Then again, maybe he'd just been waiting for Steve to hang himself with it.

"So you can imagine that I was disappointed to get a call from KHNL saying that the state of Hawaii would be paying for a news camera broken by the highly visible head of my task force."

The moderate tone of the Governor's words was a little at odds at the anger Steve could hear in his tone. He wasn't pissed, but he was getting there, and Steve had a feeling he might not have a lot of rope left. "Yes, sir." He chanced meeting the Governor's eyes. "I'm sorry. I will, of course, pay for the camera."

Never mind that the reporter was filming a crime scene that, if the details got out, they'd never have a chance in hell of finding the murderer, or that it had been justified, somewhat. Steve knew he'd get out of the meeting faster and with less damage if he just coughed up the money and an apology. And he wouldn't cost Chin and Kono their jobs--that was the last thing they deserved.

"Very well, Commander. I trust that I won't be getting any more calls like this?"

"No, sir." He hoped he could keep that promise.

"Thank you. That will be all."

***


	2. Chapter 2

_April 2013_

After his conversation with the Governor, Steve had expected Danny to be standing in the middle of HQ with a smug look when he'd gotten down to the office. It wasn't until the following morning, however, that he arrived to see the light on in Danny's office, the shades up, and Danny standing at the computer table, talking with Chin and Kono.

"What have we got?" Steve asked, directing the question at Chin and pretending like Danny suddenly standing there after six months was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Smugglers," Chin said, tapping away at the table before swiping his fingers across it to throw information onto the overhead screens. "With, apparently, a side of murder, just for extra fun."

"Am I the only one who has a problem with smugglers' idea of fun?" Danny asked.

Steve definitely did not feel a deep glow of satisfaction at how Chin and Kono largely ignored the joke as much as he had. "Who'd they murder?" Steve asked.

"Kelani Nohiko, " Kono said. "Not her given name, apparently--though given her chosen line of work, I can't say I blame her for changing it. She was well known in the right circles under her chosen name, though. High end call girl."

Steve looked at the two contrasting pictures--one clearly from Nohiko's 'agency's' website, the other of her body post mortem. "Was it one of her customers?"

"Not sure," Chin replied. "Coast Guard found her washed up on the beach up on the North Shore. No ID, skimpy dress, shoes missing, but..." Chin pulled up another picture, this one of a small sealed bag of white powder. "This was stuffed into her underwear."

"Coke?" Danny asked.

Chin nodded. "Purest stuff the islands have seen in a while."

"Shit," Danny said, and Steve couldn't help but agree in his head, even if he was ignoring him outwardly.

"So was it a drug deal gone wrong?" Steve asked. "Or is she part of the distribution?"

"That's where it gets complicated," Ko no said, and Steve had to wonder just how long she and Chin had been here working on this today. "Turns out Nohiko was a CI for an ICE agent here in Honolulu. She'd been working with him for about a year, trying to help shut down an operation bringing drugs and underage girls in for sex trafficking."

"So she doesn't have a problem with her line of work," Steve said, "but she drew the line at girls being dragged into it against their will and drugs. Nice to see people with boundaries."

Danny leaned on the table. "Proverbial hooker with a heart of gold. Nice."

Steve almost had to admire the way he kept throwing the jokes out there, even though they were being mostly ignored. "Okay, I'm assuming since we know all that, the Coast Guard has already talked to the ICE agent?"

Chin nodded, pulling up more info and sending it to the overheads. "Agent Greg Smith," he said, as a picture popped up of a blond man in his mid-thirties, the kind of person you wouldn' t necessarily notice in a crowd--perfect looks for ICE. "He's expecting us this morning."

"Good. Chin, you and I are headed to see him. Kono, you two go over to the agency Nohiko worked for and see what else you can find out about who she associated with. Maybe they can tell you something Agent Smith didn't know."

Steve turned and walked out without having acknowledged or spoken to Danny directly. Now if he could just keep it up, maybe Danny would go away on his own.

***

_December 2012_

Steve paced the length of the hospital waiting room, rubbing at the one uncovered finger sticking out of his gloves. Every time someone came out of the curtained area at the end of the hall, he whipped around to look, but he couldn't see anything, and no one came down to talk to them.

He knew he should be comforting Kono, should say something, apologize, maybe, but he didn't know what to say, and she probably didn't want to hear it anyway. He'd been Chin's backup. He was supposed to have protected him, and all he could do was watch as a bullet had come out of nowhere and Chin had gone down.

Somewhere in the logical side of his brain he knew from the position of the wound and the amount of blood that it wasn't likely to be anything serious--relatively speaking. It didn't stop him from feeling like his constant distraction lately had nearly gotten Chin killed.

"Hey, Boss."

He jerked his head to his left and realized Kono was standing there. From t he look on her face, he didn't think it was the first thing she'd said to him, either. "Sorry," he said, then cleared his throat. "I was thinking."  
  
"This isn't your fault, you know."

Of course she'd say that. She might even believe it. But he knew better. "I was supposed to have his back."

"You did. The bullet came from a sniper across the street--how were you supposed to stop that?"  
  
He should've known. He'd studied the kidnappers, he knew their strategies, and he'd planned the rescue himself. He should have accounted for the possibility of a sniper--these weren't a disorganized group of idiots out for money, these were political rebels. They were like their own trained militia. A sniper made sense.

And he hadn't seen it coming.

"I should've seen it before we ever left HQ," Steve said simply.

"Contrary to what you believe," Kono said, a hint of a smile on her face, "you are not psychic. Or superhuman," she added, putting her hand on his arm. "And not everything is your fault."

He nodded, but he didn't agree. He couldn't save his father. He couldn't stop Chin from taking a bullet. He couldn't even keep Danny in Hawaii.

When you couldn't count all the things that _were_ your fault, it sure felt a hell of a lot like everything.

***

_April 2013_

The cab of the truck was quiet. Not the focused, on the job kind of quiet. The kind that had Steve bracing himself every time Chin took a breath, waiting for him to bring up the one thing Steve didn't want to talk about.

It took him roughly 15 of the deep, about-to-speak breaths before he cracked, however. "Kind of weird having Danny back, isn't it?"

"Chin, don't."

"I'm just saying, it's like before, only not."

"Not right now, man," Steve says, sparing him a quick glance. "I need to focus on the job."

He saw Chin nod out of the corner of his eye, and that was the end of it for the moment. They spoke with Agent Smith, who told them little more than they already knew from the files about his work with Nohiko. Yes, she'd brought him the information on the smuggling ring. No, she didn't have any names other than the lowest level fish. And yes, she'd promised to try to get him some coke to test, to hopefully help determine the source, at least. 

Which was likely why she'd been killed.

He said the coke was being tested, and he'd let them know as soon as they had the possible source narrowed down, and promised to share anything else he learned if they did the same. The ride back to HQ was silent, and the afternoon passed in the timeless haze that the start of such investigations usually did.

Steve could feel the looks from Chin, though, not to mention the speculative looks from Danny. Both of them seemed to be judging their odds at engaging him in conversations, neither of which Steve wanted any part of today.

When it was getting late, and he saw Chin and Danny hovering over the table talking about a lead that needed tracking the next day as they wound down for the day, Steve gathered his things as quietly as he could and slipped out before either of them could notice.

***

_January 2013_

"Hey, Smooth Dog, it's Kansas!"

Steve smiled into the phone, leaning back into his chair and putting his feet up on his desk. "Kansas! How the hell are you?"

He listened to his old teammate talk about family and his career moves, letting it take him back to an easier time, when all there'd been was the mission and his team, and taking orders. "So anyway," Kansas said, and something in his tone made Steve drop his feet to the floor and sit up in anticipation. "I'm planning a mission, and I could really use you on this one. I can't tell you much over the phone, but it's in your area of expertise, in more ways than one."

A mission with a trained team he barely knew, likely far away from Hawaii and everything that distracted him with its reminders of Danny. Somewhere his distractions would disappear and no longer be a danger to his team.

"I know you're technically in the reserves," Kansas said, clearly thinking he needed the hard sell, "but we've been hearing about everything you've been up to down there, and I know you're probably in even better shape than--"

"I'm in," Steve said.

***

_April 2013_

The swim had done little to clear Steve's head. Even as he could tell the ocean floor was getting closer with each stroke, he didn't feel that normal quiet peace in his brain that came with finishing his swim.

Considering the noise in his head was centered around Danny Williams, lack of peace and quiet was not entirely a surprise.

As he reached the point where he could put his feet down on the sand, Steve was less surprised than he would have expected to see Danny standing on the beach, or, rather, squatting on the beach, scratching Spot behind the ears. He should've known Danny wouldn't let it go--after all, he'd gone to great lengths to get himself back in front of Steve every day at work; why would he stop himself from doing the same at Steve's house?

Steve hitched up his heavy, wet board shorts as he walked out of the ocean, eyeing Danny with what he hoped was more impatience, less hunger. Because he looked so very good, his work clothes from earl ier abandoned, and in their place a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt that looks like it had been dried one too many times from the way it stretched around his muscles.

He kind of wished the ocean was a little colder in Hawaii, as he adjusted his shorts under the premise of dealing with the water weight pulling them down.

"I see you kept Spot," Danny said, giving the dog one more scratch before standing.

"Yeah, well, we abandoned mutts have to stick together," Steve said before he could stop himself.

He absolutely did not feel guilty at the way Danny flinched. That ache in his gut was just telling him it was time for dinner. "Look, I don't know what to say to that if you won't let me apologize and explain."

"I don't need an apology or an explanation. If you really feel sorry, why did you insert yourself back into 5-0?"

"I didn't," Danny said. "I swear. I went back to my old Captain at HPD and asked for a job. Just a regular HPD detective jo b."

"Right, and they just said, 'Hey, no, take your old job on the task force?'"

Danny shook his head. "I got a call later in the day from someone on the Governor's staff, offering me my old job back."

"Which you apparently jumped at."

"No. I turned it down."

"And yet, here you are."

"The Governor came to see me."

That brought Steve up short. "He came to see you?"  
  
"At my place, to personally change my mind." Danny took a step forward, stopping when he saw Steve take an automatic step back. "He told me," Danny said in a low voice, "about what's happened since I've been gone. Attacking news crews? Getting yourself shot in some jungle no one seems to be able to name? Making a detective cry for doing his job? To say Kono was less than forthcoming the other night would be an understatement."

"'Since you've been gone?' Don't flatter yourself that your disappearing act has anything to do with what's happened over the last six months, Danny. You don't control the criminal element--either in Hawaii or in...classified places that I can't talk about. Not _everything_ is about you."  
  


To Steve's horror, Danny's mouth was widening into a grin. "Not everything is about me," he agreed. "However, six months has not diminished my ability to know when you, my friend, are lying. And I would bet money that a lot of what's happened in the last six months _is_ about me."

"I'm not your friend," Steve ground out, "and nothing from the last six months is about you, so go home."

The smug grin was gone, replaced with alarm that said that Danny really could still read him, and knew he'd just used the wrong tactic, and Steve was seriously pissed. "Look, I'm sorry," Danny said. "I just...if you'd let me explain what happened last fall. You _need_ to hear it."

"I don't need to hear it. _You_ need to say it. And I'm not here to give you what you need, not after--" Steve pushed past Danny, twisting to avoid contact with his body, and snapped his fingers at Spot, who trotted after him. "Go home, Danny. The Governor may have dictated that I have to see you at work, but I don't at home. So go."

He didn't look back as he walked into the house and shut and locked the door. He did, however, stand in the living room until he heard the Camaro door shut, and the car peel away, before he went upstairs to take a shower.

***

_February 2013_

"Commander, can you hear me?"

Steve grit his teeth and tried to reach for the burning pain in his left arm, but his hand was pulled away. "Don't touch," the female voice said. "We're going to patch it up. Just glad to see you're with us again."

He focused on his memory, trying to ignore the white-hot spear that seemed to have lodged in his arm, just above his elbow. He remembered being in the jungle, following just behind Kansas, moving through the trees and undergrowth as silently as possible on the way to ambush a terrorist cell. He'd heard something that sounded off, followed by Danny's voice in his head screaming, "Duck, you Army-brainwashed idiot!" a second before pain lanced his arm, and he'd been shoved to the ground.

Right, Kansas had knocked him down before he could get shot again, and tied his wound off so they could get out. The mission would have to be re-planned, but first they'd have to find the new camp, because the terrorists would be long gone. He didn't even know if the intel had been wrong about the camp defense, or they'd changed their methods, or just gotten wind of the attack and had been lying in wait.

Not that it mattered for him. His reaction time had been a little off, and as a result, he was out of the mission anyway. He knew all too well that he'd be taking a minimum of four weeks leave with an injury like this, and he didn't have the clout he once had to get it shortened. This particular battle would be over long before he'd be healed.

At least he'd had three successful missions before he got himself shot like an idiot. That should help his reputation, and maybe no one would realize that he'd let himself get so distracted that he was lucky it had taken this long to get injured.

He'd thought getting out of Hawaii would get rid of the distractions. He hadn't realized they had been inside his own head all along.

***

_April 2013_

Nohiko's death hadn't been for nothing. An encrypted file on her laptop, zealously guarded from the smugglers by her 'employer' (an annoyingly polite word for 'madam,' as Danny had so aptly put it, and even Steve had to agree), had led them to an arms dealer client of Nohiko's with ties to this new smuggling ring. The madam had apparently shared Nohiko's feelings on the influx of drugs and girls (and the impact on her business, no doubt) and been only too happy to give up Nohiko's client's name and address with her computer.

They were converging on the house, Steve and Kono taking the right, Danny and Chin taking the left, when Steve saw a flash in one of the front windows. He barely had time to note that the gun was aimed at the left side of the house before he was breaking from his position and running that way, yelling Danny's name as Danny went down hard.

"Danny!" Steve reached him, vaguely registering Chin and Kono returning fire. "Hey, come on, talk t o me!"

He managed to roll Danny gently over onto his back, mindful of the hole in Danny's shirt sleeve that was rapidly disappearing in a growing patch of blood. Steve pulled his tac vest as he realized the gunfire had stopped, and yanked off the button down he had over his t-shirt. As he pressed the shirt against Danny's arm, trying to stop the flow of blood, he could hear Kono calling for EMTs, and breaking glass and thuds that suggested at least someone in the house was still alive and being handled with the appropriate amount of care by Chin.

"Danny, come on, talk to me."

Danny coughed, which Steve thought was about the best sound he'd heard all day, only to change that ranking to second best when Danny spoke. "Haven't you been spending the last week trying to _keep_ me from talking to you?"

Steve choked out a half laugh. "Yeah, well, consider this a momentary truce," he said, swallowing back the way those words didn't hold the appeal they would have five minutes ago. "How's the arm?"

"It's been shot, Steven, how do you think it is?"

Relief flooded through Steve as he recognized that tone, and knew that while Danny wasn't entirely out of the woods, he wasn't nearly as bad as all the blood had made Steve fear. "Yeah, well, apparently you forgot how to duck while you were in London, huh?"

Something strange passed over Danny's face that Steve couldn't quite match up to any of his normal expressions. "You knew I was in London?"

Oh. That. "Yeah, uh, I might've...tracked you and found out you were on a flight there." And maybe used some resources that left him owing Cath far more favors than he would likely ever be able to repay to find out a few other things that he wasn't owning up to. "Should've been my first guess," Steve said. "I always knew you secretly missed your ex-mother-in-law."

"Ouch. I've already been shot, did I really deserve that?" Danny joked, his hand reaching for the wound, but finding Steve's where he was holding his shirt on it. Danny's hand covered his, and Steve found he didn't really want to move his hand, even if he could have.

He swallowed, and opened his mouth to say something, not even sure what he was about to say himself, when the EMTs started pulling him away.

Steve surrendered Danny and his shirt to the EMTs, standing back just far enough not to get in their way, but close enough he could keep an eye on Danny. He hesitated when they put Danny in the ambulance, not sure if he should ride along, but one look at Danny's eyes, trained on Steve as if he was a lifeline, was enough to have him climbing into the back just before they closed the doors.

He sat against the back door, watching the relatively calm activity as the EMTs made sure Danny wasn't in danger of bleeding out before they reached Queen's. The ride took only minutes, and then Steve was jumping out of the way so they could wheel Da nny into the ER.

He heard police sirens and saw the Camaro pull up, Chin and Kono jumping out. They caught up with him as he was stopped from going any further. "How is he?" Kono asked.

"Okay, considering he was shot," Steve said, watching them wheel Danny down to a curtained area. He didn't take his eyes off of him until the curtain was closed, and even then, he only spared Chin and Kono glances before going back to watching the curtain.

"How badly was he shot?" Chin asked.

"I think it was a through and through," Steve said, "but there was too much blood to tell for sure."

Kono put a hand on Steve's arm. "He was talking, yeah?" At Steve's nod, she squeezed his arm and smiled. "That's a good sign."

"Are you kidding? This is Danny. He'll probably be talking in his grave."

She huffed quietly, as much of a laugh as any of them were likely to get in this situation. "So has the chance of letting him stick around to talk more increas ed?" she asked as Chin got pulled away to move the Camaro.

Steve wasn't ready to think about that just yet, and he gave her a look, but she wasn't cowed by it. "I can't think about that right now," he said.

"You should," she said quietly. "Because this could have gone very differently."

"But it didn't."

"But it could have. And where would you be then?"

His stomach turned at the mere thought of it, and he forced the possibility out of his head. "I can't think about it right now, Kono," he said, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the closed curtain. "I just can't."

She nodded and squeezed his arm once more before she let go, but the idea was there now, and he couldn't get rid of it, no matter how hard he tried.

He was still pissed as hell at Danny. But the thought of losing him with things the way they were between them...that was worse. He knew that without having to think about it.

What he didn't know was exactly w here that left them.

***

_March 2013_

Steve poured himself another shot of tequila from the bottle he'd talked the bartender into leaving with him. He'd been smart enough to go to a bar where he wasn't known so his friends wouldn't try to save him from drinking himself into oblivion. There were times that this was the only way to cope, at least for a night. And on a day when he'd gotten the call that his medical leave had been turned into a transfer back to the reserves, back to 5-0, he needed help coping.

He was necessary for a case that had been unsolved for too long, he'd been told. The Governor had personally called in favors to get him back, despite the fact that he was still technically on medical leave. He wondered how much of that, if any, was true.

He knew he was good at his job. He also knew he'd been off his game for a while. Five months and eight days, if he was honest with himself. Since the day he'd walked into HQ and found Kelekolio waiting and Danny gone.

One more shot and he tipped the bottle up to pour the last of it into his glass. It hadn't been full when he'd gotten it, but it had been a far cry from empty. He drank what was left and stared at the shot glass, wondering if he should get another.

He needed something to make his brain stop for a while before he was thrown back into everything that did nothing but remind him of Danny 24/7.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll get your ass out the door!"

Steve turned on his stool, frowning at the man who'd shouted. He was towering over a tiny woman, who for all her attempts at bravado, was shaking so much Steve could see it from half the bar away. "I'm not leaving with you, Jake," she said, her voice shaking as much as the rest of her.

"I'm warning you, you get in the car, or you're not gonna like the consequences."

Steve pushed his stool back and sauntered down to the end of the bar. "That's a big word for someone who can't spell it," he said, stopping about a foot away from the asshole.

Jake turned to look at Steve, and yeah, he might've had an inch or two in height, but he didn't look like he would be a challenge, even on half a bottle of tequila. "Excuse me?" he said, his voice making it clear he didn't see it the same way.

"The lady said she didn't want to go with you," Steve said, instead of repeating himself. "Leave her alone."

"This is none of your business, jackass."

"Maybe I'm making it my business."

"Oh really?" Jake turned fully to face him, and Steve shot a look at the woman and nodded towards the door. She nodded back, turned and ran. "Maybe I should fix your nose so you know better than to stick it in other people's business next time."

Steve snorted. "You can try."

Jake's first punch was sloppy, and Steve ducked it easily. He saw an opening to take him down fast, but ignored it, preferring to punish him a little for everything he was certain the man had done or was thinki ng about doing, mopping the bar with his face before letting him end up on the ground.

By the time Steve was dusting off his hands, HPD had entered the bar. They dropped their guns when they saw who it was, but they still insisted he come with them, as he wasn't officially reinstated with 5-0 just yet, and therefore was technically a non police-officer in a bar fight.

An hour later, Steve was sitting at HPD in an interrogation room--at least they hadn't put him in a cell--when the door opened and Chin walked in. "Come on," Chin said. "We're going."

Steve kept his mouth shut until they were in Chin's car. "Thanks," he said, staring out the window.

"You know they seriously talked about charging you?"

"What?" Steve looked at Chin. "Why?"

"Because you broke the guy's nose, two fingers and three ribs."

Steve shrugged. "He'd have done far worse to the woman he was trying to terrify into leaving with him."

"That doesn't me an you can just beat the shit out of him." Chin pulled off the road into an empty lot and threw the car into park. Steve heard him shifting, and turned to meet his eyes. "Look, Steve...I know it's been tough on you since Danny left."

"I was wondering when that speech was coming," Steve said idly. "Did you and Kono draw straws to see who had to come give it?"

"No, because if I'd let Kono come, she'd have punched you."

Steve laughed a little uncomfortably, because he wasn't entirely sure Chin was kidding. "She's that mad at me?"

"More worried than mad, I think, but she tends to hit things she can't fix." A ghost of a smile crossed Chin's face. "Kind of like you."

"I've been a good influence on her," Steve joked.

Chin laughed a little, but then his smile faded. "Have you heard from Danny at all?"

"No." Steve folded his arms over his chest and looked out the window again.

"Steve--"

"Let it go, Chin."

Chin took a deep breath, and Steve could almost hear him counting to ten as he let it out before he spoke again. "You're the one who needs to let it go," he said quietly. "You have to accept that he may not come back, and you have to move on."

"I can't."

"You have to, or it's going to destroy you."

"I can't, Chin. Just...not yet." He knew his limits, and he knew that trying to accept that Danny might not come back was what would destroy him at this point. The day he could say otherwise, he'd do exactly what Chin was asking. "I know what I'm doing," Steve said, turning his head to look at Chin. "Trust me."

Chin studied him for a long moment. "If you say so," he said at last, putting the car back into drive and pulling back out into traffic to take Steve home.

***

_April 2013_

Steve hesitated outside Danny's hospital room. He hadn't been in there since Danny had been admitted the morning before, but now he was being released, and Steve felt he at least owed Danny a ride home.

And if he wanted to see for himself that Danny was okay, it didn't have to mean anything other than wanting to check on one of his team.

He waited until the nurse left the room before stepping into the doorway. Danny was shrugging his good arm into a shirt. He turned to his injured one next, slowly trying to ease it into the sleeve. Steve watched him wince and stop, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Here," he said, moving into the room. "Let me help."

Danny started. "I didn't know you were there."

"Obviously." Steve held the sleeve out for Danny to slowly ease his arm into it before moving in front of him to button the shirt almost to the top. "There."

He stepped back, chancing a look at Danny's face, noting the confusion there. "What are you doing here?" Danny asked, his voice hoarse.

"I came to see if you needed a ride home."

"Really?" At Steve's nod, Danny said, "Okay," and pushed off the bed. "Let's go."

He led Danny out to the truck, which Steve had managed to leave near the entrance, just out of the way of the ambulance bay. Steve hung back, watching Danny climb into the truck, waiting to see if he needed any help, but he was fine.

They were on Punchbowl before Steve realized he didn't actually know where he was going. "So where are you living?" he asked.

When Danny gave him the address, Steve winced, but he drove there anyway, determined to drop Danny at home. Until he saw 'home.' "Seriously, Danny, you can't stay here. Your arm will get infected the moment you walk in."

"We can't all have mansions bequeathed to us, Steven."

Steve looked at the building again, wondering how it hadn't been condemned. There was no way he was leaving Danny here alone--whateve r else they'd been through, he just couldn't. "You're going to my place," he said, and threw the truck into reverse.

"Whoa, wait a minute--unless you're planning on facing kidnapping charges, I get a say here."

Steve shoved the truck back into park and turned towards Danny a little in the seat. "You want to even hazard a guess as to how much bacteria will get in that wound the moment you open it up to change the dressing in a place like that?"  
  
"I assure you, Steven, the inside is much cleaner."

"Right. Didn't look it when we investigated the murdered drug dealer upstairs from you last month."

"You're making that up."  
  


Steve stared at him, waiting for him to change his mind. When he didn't instantly fall in line, Steve pressed harder. "It's either my place or the hospital," he said, "but I am not leaving you there with an open wound."  
  
"For fuck's sake, it has stitches!"

"You know what I mean. Which is it, Danny, hospital, or my place?" When Danny still hesitated, Steve played his ace. "I'll let you explain what happened six months ago."

"I thought that topic was off-limits."

"It was. But if you stay at my place, the topic is open again. One time only offer, Danny. What's it going to be?"  
  
Danny stared at him for a long moment, something familiar and almost forgotten--at least when Steve was awake--in his eyes. "Fine. Your place, then."

"Good." Steve put the truck in reverse and pulled back out into the street.

***

_March 2013_

Steve finished reading the file and closed it, tossing it onto his desk and sitting back in his chair. He rubbed his eyes tiredly--two days back, and he'd barely slept, too busy chasing down leads on the unsolved case that had suddenly become solvable, they thought. They were waiting for one piece of information they thought would put everything together, so he'd gone through the file again, just to make sure he had all the pieces fresh in his mind.

He glanced out his window to Danny's office, shuttered and empty, as it had been since the day he'd left. Kelekolio used the smaller office near Kono's--the one farthest from Steve's, which was probably half the appeal.

That Danny's office was still empty was a whole other issue that Steve didn't need Freud--or Chin--to explain. He knew he'd been running away when he left, even if he hadn't admitted it to himself. Just because he'd been forced back didn't mean he knew how to do anything else.

How did you s top running away from something when you didn't have anything to run _to_?

"Hey, boss!" Kono called out from the bullpen. "We've got it!"

With a sigh of relief, Steve picked up the file and went to join his team.

***

_April 2013_

He'd half expected Danny to start in on his explanation the second they walked into Steve's house, but Danny was silent. Steve offered him a beer--he had heard Danny refuse painkillers at the hospital--and Danny nodded, rolling his shoulder almost imperceptibly, but wincing nonetheless.

It was clear his arm was bothering him--even with it in a sling, the way Danny held his upper body so stiffly was far too familiar to Steve, having been in the same situation himself. It was almost impossible to relax with a pain like that. Maybe the beer would help.

Danny walked through the house and straight out to the back, down to the chairs by the ocean. Steve grabbed two Longboards and opened them before following, holding the door open for Spot to join them. Danny had taken his usual chair, and Steve dropped into the other before handing the beer over.

The clink of the longnecks was so automatic that Steve didn't even think about it until they'd already tapped t hem together. The painful familiarity of it all left a hollow ache in his chest, one that made him want to run for the house and hide.

But he'd promised Danny he could explain.

That did not mean, however, that he had to hurry it along. So he sat there and sipped at his beer, watching the ocean roll in and out, letting the sound wash over his nerves, soothing them one wave at a time.

"I missed this," Danny said after a while, and Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "The ocean," Danny explained, pointing his beer at the water. "Ironic, right? I spent my whole time here bitching about it, and when I moved to London the lack of waves was like this constant nagging feeling that something was wrong. Like I'd forgotten to turn the oven off, or left my wallet somewhere."

"Danny Williams missing the ocean. That's...a surprise."

He huffed, one corner of his mouth lifting. "There was this bridge across the Thames that I used sometimes getting to Tube stations- -Hungerford Footbridge, it was called. If you stood there on the bridge you could sometimes hear the water making noise against the supports, and it sounded almost like the ocean. I used to stand there and close my eyes and just listen for a few minutes before I'd move on."

So he'd missed the ocean. Steve wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, or how it fit into the explanation, but it was clearly important to Danny to share. "I'm impressed you crossed a footbridge over that big a body of water every day," Steve teased.

"I was assured there were no sharks in the Thames," Danny said with a faint smile. "Sitting here, though, like this...I don't think it was the ocean itself I missed. It was this."

He waved his hands around in a way that Steve took to mean everything around him. "You missed my chairs?" he said, because he wasn't about to make this easy.

"Your chairs, the beach, the ocean, Longboards...." He ran his free hand through his hair, ducking his head sideways and looking up at Steve through his lashes. "You," he said finally. "I missed you."

"They have phones in London," Steve said, trying to keep his voice from betraying any hint of anger.

Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "When Rachel told me about the move," he said carefully, "I think she expected me to be excited. I mean, it wasn't Jersey, but it was a city. With varying weather. And Stan had pulled some strings and even gotten me a work visa and a job. I think I surprised her when I cursed her and Stan and the entire universe for dragging me away." He snorted. "I know I surprised myself."

"It's understandable," Steve said evenly. "You resent being dragged around like a servant, having where you live dictated by your ex-wife's husband. Who wouldn't?" 

"It wasn't that," Danny said. "I mean, yeah, I don't like that, but that wasn't my biggest problem. I didn't want to leave here. And it took me most of the two wee ks I knew to realize why I didn't want to leave, and why I kept putting off telling anyone."

Two weeks. He'd known for two weeks and hadn't said a word. "Why's that?" Steve managed to get out.

"Because I didn't want to leave you," Danny said simply. Steve was surprised with the honesty and the sincerity he could see in Danny's expression. "And every time I ran through it in my head, I saw your response playing out one of two ways. And I was honestly afraid that you'd ask me to stay...and I wasn't sure I was strong enough to say no. But I had to go. Grace was going, so I had to follow. The only way to make sure I was strong enough to leave was to make sure the question never got asked."

Steve swallowed against the weight of that knowledge, that Danny wasn't sure he could've chosen Grace over Steve. "Two ways?" was all he said, however.

"What?"

"You said two ways. What was the other one?"

"Oh." Danny broke eye contact at last, staring down at his beer bottle. "The other possibility was that you wouldnâ€™t ask," he said, his voice low. "And I wasn't sure I could handle that, either."

He wasn't sure what to do with that admission either. He'd spent six months thinking all sorts of things, all of them adding up to Danny not caring enough to stay. To find out this.... "So that night," Steve said, stopping to clear his throat before he continued, "you came over here saying we needed to talk, but you left without telling me you were going. I woke up and you were just gone. No idea what had happened. The Governor had to tell me, but only after I was met by your replacement."

Danny winced. "I know, I'm sorry. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. I just...I woke up, and you were curled around me, and it was everything I'd wanted--hell, it was ten times better than everything I'd wanted--and I...I just couldn't tell you. There was no way I'd have made that flight if you'd woke up, and I co uldn't live with myself if I'd let Grace go without me. It's a father's duty to put his kid before himself, no matter how badly he wants something."

"I get that," Steve said quietly, and he did, he really did. It just didn't wash away the last six months. "You could've called, though, once you were gone. Hell, you could've left a note."

"I did," Danny said quickly, eyes meeting Steve's again. "I left a note on the bed--a letter, actually."

Steve frowned, thinking back. "There was no letter."

"I figured that out when I got back and heard your voicemails," Danny said. "But I left it, Steve, I swear to God I did. And I explained all of this, and I put my number in London in it, and I said if you could forgive me, call, and if I didn't hear from you, I'd know that leaving like that was unforgivable. And I didn't get a call."  
  
"Because I didn't get a letter."

"I know that now, though I have no idea what happened to it. Have you moved the bed or nightstand or anything since then? Maybe it's still under one of them."

Steve shook his head. "Spot sheds like crazy. I'm cleaning under the furniture all the time. He's--fuck. Spot."

"What?" Danny asked, even as the dog perked up at the sound of his name.

"Do you remember when you came over I was telling you that he had new eating habits?"

"Yeah, you said he was...shit. He was eating paper."

Steve nodded. "That morning, when I woke up, he was on the bed. And when I got up to go take a shower, he'd thrown up. There were bits of paper in it."

"So the dog ate my letter?"  
  
"Looks like it."

Danny closed his eyes and leaned back into his seat, putting his beer on the table. "It figures."

"You didn't hear any of my voicemails until you got back to Hawaii?" Steve asked. "You never checked it in London?" 

Danny shook his head. "I couldn't," he said, turning his head and opening his eyes to look at Steve. "It was...I was...a mess. I couldn't even look at a palm tree without wanting to book a flight. Calling my voicemail, hearing anything from here, that would have...well, I had to stay there."

"It never occurred to you that there was a third way that conversation could have gone before you left?"  
  
That brought Danny up short. "No."

"You never thought maybe I'd have offered to go with you?"

Danny stared for a long moment. "No. Hawaii's your home."

"It's your home, too," Steve said, waiting for Danny to deny it, but he didn't. "But when someone's important enough, home is relative."

He was still staring. "You'd have offered to go?"  
  
"I don't know," Steve said. "I didn't get the chance to find out. I might not have then. Because the last six months hadn't happened yet."  
  
"I thought you said the last six months weren't about me."  
  
"They weren't. They were about me. Doesn't mean you weren't involved."

Danny's stare was losing its shock, and what was replacing it had Steve feeling a little breathless, even if he wasn't sure he was ready to see it. "So," Danny said, "where does that leave us?"  
  
"I don't know," Steve said honestly.

"You need time to think," Danny said with a sharp nod. "I get that." He pushed himself up off the chair with his good arm. "I'll leave you to think."

He started slowly up the beach to the house. Steve closed his eyes, but all he saw was Danny being shot and hitting the ground. He felt that same sinking feeling he'd had watching it happen, like the earth below him had just disappeared.

There was no point in drawing this out--they'd both suffered enough. And he didn't want to go back out into danger without more memories than that one quick night overshadowed by loss.

"Wait," Steve called, hopping out of his chair and jogging up to where Danny had stopped on the lanai. He saw the hope in Danny's eyes, and it cem ented his decision. "That was enough time to think."

Danny blinked, then a smile started to take shape on his lips. "They say quick decisions are usually a good thing."

"I hope so," Steve said, sliding his arms around Danny and pulling him close. "Because I've decided I'm keeping you, and I'd be disappointed if you thought that was a bad thing after all of this."

The smile grew. "I think that's a good thing."

"Wanna go upstairs and find out how good?"

"Very much."

Steve leaned in for a kiss, stretching it into two or three before letting go, resting his forehead against Danny's. "Just promise me one thing," Steve said quietly.

"What's that?"

"That you'll be here in the morning."

He felt Danny inch closer, felt his arm tighten around Steve's back. "I promise."

"And if you ever have to go again?"

"I'll take you with me, if you want to go."

Steve took one more kiss. "Good," he said, before letting go of everything but Danny's good hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

\---

END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to learn more about me and my writing? Visit my page at <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com/>


End file.
